saved her from being run over by his own horses, therefore she considers herself at liberty to limp after him, and round him, and about him, on every possible occasion, to say sharp, priggish things to him, to make love to him, and in the Third Act so craftily to manage as to spot him just as he is about to drink off a phial of poison, which operation, being preceded by a soliloquy of strong theatrical flavour and considerable length, gives the lame girl a fair chance of hobbling down the stairs and arresting the thus "spotted Nobleman's" arm at the critical moment. Curtain, and a really fine dramatic situation. "Which nobody can deny."

Act III.

Pantaloon David Peggotty Gladstone Ives.

It is in this same Third Act that the fine old crusted melodramatic curse is uncorked, and a good imperial quart of wrath is poured out on his dancing daughter's head by the heavy father, who, in his country suit, forces his way into the gilded halls of the Duke's mansion, past the flunkeys, the head butler, and all the rest of the usual pampered menials. An audience that can accept this old-fashioned cheap-novel kind of clap-trap, and witness, without surprise, the marvellous departure of all the guests, supperless, for no assigned cause, or explicable reason, not even an alarm of fire having been given, will swallow a considerable amount.

FINAL TABLEAU.

Triumph of the Artful Agent and his lame Duck of a Daughter, Sybil Slyboots, alias Becky Sharp, afterwards the Merry Duchess of Gooseberry.

The Fourth Act is an anticlimax, and shows up the faulty construction of the drama. Of course the news comes that the Dancing Girl is dead, and this information is brought by a Sainte Nitouche of a "Sister" of some Theatrical Order (not admitted after half-past seven), whose very appearance is a suggestio falsi. Equally, of course, a letter is found, which, as exculpating Gooseberry, induces the old cuss of a Puritan father to shake hands with the converted "Spotted Nobleman"; but, be it remembered, the Dook is still his landlord, and the value of the property is going up considerably. Then it appears that the old humbug of an agent has sagaciously speculated in the improvement of the island, and poor Gooseberry feels under such an obligation to that sly puss of an agent's daughter, that, in a melancholy sort of way, he offers her his hand, which she, the artful little hussy of a Becky Sharp, with considerable affectation of coyness, accepts, and down goes the Curtain upon as unsatisfactory and commonplace a termination to a good Melodrama as any Philistine of the Philistines could possibly wish. It would have been a human tragedy indeed had poor Gooseberry poisoned himself, and the girl whose life he had saved had arrived just too late, only to die of a broken heart. But that "is quite another story."

The piece is well played all round, especially by the men. Mr. TREE is excellent, except in the ultra-melodramatic parts, where he is too noisy. The very best thing he does is the perfect finish of the Second Act, when, without a word, he sits in the chair before the fire lost in dismal thought. This is admirable: as perfect in its dramatic force as it is true to nature. It is without exception the best thing in the whole piece. Mr. F. KERR as Reginald Slingsby, achieves a success unequalled since Mr. BANCROFT played the parvenu swell Hawtree. It should be borne in mind that Mr. KERR only recently played admirably the poor stuttering shabby lover in The Struggle for Life. Il ira loin, ce bon M. KERR. Miss JULIA NEILSON looks the part to the life: when she has ceased to give occasional imitations of Miss ELLEN TERRY, and can really play the part as well as she looks it, then nothing more could be possibly desired. All the others as good as need be, or can be.

THE BOGEY, MAN!

(Retort of a Lady-Player who plays "for love.")

["No game was ever yet invented which held the female mind in thrall save by indirect means. Where would croquet have been, so far as the Ladies were concerned, without its Curates, or lawn-tennis without its 'Greek gods' ... If men played for nothing, they would find it dull enough."—JAMES PAYN]

Mum's the Word!

[Mr. CHAMBERLAIN presided lately at a Deaf-and-Dumb Meeting.]

MADAME ROLAND RE-EDITED (from a sham-Japanese point of view).—O LIBERTY! what strange (decorative) things are done in thy name!

JACK'S APPEAL.

["It is impossible for warrant-officers in the Navy not to see that they are placed at a disadvantage as compared with non-commissioned officers in the Army, and it must be very difficult to persuade them that the two cases are so essentially different as to afford no real ground for grievance."—The "Times," on "An Earnest Appeal on Behalf of the Rank and File of the Navy."]

Jack Tar to Tommy Atkins, loquitur:—